Exiting justice had dry wit, avoided D.C. social whirl
WASHINGTON -- In 1990, when David Souter was nominated for the Supreme Court and visited Capitol Hill, one of the reporters trailing him asked the little-known New Hampshire judge how it felt to be snatched from obscurity.
"I must say," he responded, "I never thought of myself as that obscure."
The dry-witted Yankee has remained a low-key but crucial player on the nation's highest court. He told President Obama on Friday that he will retire when the court term ends this summer.
Souter, an appointee of George H.W. Bush, became a reliable member of the court's liberal wing, voting to uphold abortion rights, urging a high wall of separation between church and state, and consistently endorsing legal protections for Guantanamo detainees.
Yet Souter, 69 and a lifelong bachelor, was never comfortable in the world of Washington and rarely accepted speaking invitations. He preferred to eat a quiet lunch at his desk than to socialize with his colleagues. He has been decidedly old-fashioned, writing his opinions out in longhand rather than on a personal computer, and often works in dimly lit chambers. He once declared to a congressional committee that cameras would be allowed in court only over his "dead body."
University of Pennsylvania law professor Kermit Roosevelt, who was a law clerk to Souter from 1999-2000, said the justice's interest in ideas and history makes him an expert on U.S. law but also causes him to chafe at the ways of Washington.
"I think he has a better understanding than most of the justices (about) how the law evolved and how it adapts to the needs of society," Roosevelt said in an interview. "One of the things people don't understand about Justice Souter is how curious he is. He definitely wanted to learn about the world, but he didn't want to do that through meeting people at formal occasions. … He doesn't like the ceremonial aspects of the job."
Souter said recently that one of his great disappointments in court work is that he can not engage in his usual reading for enjoyment. When the term starts each October, he said in a March speech, "I undergo an annual intellectual lobotomy."
